Time of Mourn
by huem0902
Summary: After the defeat of Alduin, what is left for the Dragonborn? There are no words of comfort for her, but she must return home and begin a new life.


Time of Mourn

What should I do now? I am beyond the foreseen path that lead me to being the true Dragonborn. Alduin lay at my feet, or what I assume to be the general direction of where my feet are. The ghosts of past heroes gather in the background; their presence is felt in more than just the silent aura of any ghost. I feel the mist emanating from the ground below them. It touches my skin in a comforting grasp that keeps me from falling asleep, yet the foreboding sense of loss was consuming. For years I battled this foe with all the vigor I could expel, and it worked. Skyrim and all of Tamriel are once again safe from the impending horror, now they are able to get back to the squabbles that hold a comforting familiarity.

A hand on my arm feels warm as it pulls me off the ground, "Time for you to go home, Harbinger."

Kodlak keeps a hand on me as I steady myself. Haze fogs my movements but the smell of burnt grass makes me ache with a signified meaning of something that gave life to my limbs. The dragons had surrounded my every movement, but there are none left and my eyes open only to see the empty sky.

A cloud full of air and wind scales the emptiness above with the patience of a tired captain. Nothing but a calm halo lets it bask in the pleasure of knowing that it is the one causing the weather and never towards one's self.

A deep breath fills my lungs with a quiver of smoke-riddled dread. I know Alduin in dead; I drop my head to prove so, my eyes clear of their fog. His dripping body lay over the edge of the cliff above me, yet seeing him like this also confirms it is real. All of it. The battle and everything that lead to the pinnacle moment of death. Everything ends with the desolation of something and this time is should feel right but everything is pulling me back to loathing of all that lead me to this point. I try to convince myself that I am done, but all that I gain is a further deepening fear that this may just be how I will always feel about being the Dragonborn. What was suppose to lie beyond this point for me?

There is a whisper of an image far off though, a hope of what I possibly missed these previous years. I was clouded by my own destiny that maybe there was a morsel of anticipation for a new end game. But for now it is time to move on and start in a place all new , or maybe not so new.

I look back at Kodlak and he places a hand on the back of my neck upon noticing my solemn expression.

"Dear, go home. You have done enough for this world and the last. Time may now be still but never forget that you will always be the Dovahkiin, whatever that may. It is your turn to make your own life." he said. The gruff texture of him gave me a nothing but hope for some magical happiness. He nearly lost his dream to return to Sovngarde upon his death yet here he stood on these grounds. The pretense behind his words is what gives me reason for the smile I show him. I grasp his arm before turning from him without a word.

I arrive in Winterhold a few days later with the need for applause and gratitude gone. No one needs to know what I have done or where I have gone as long as they are safe. There is nothing more than a simple life left for me and it is time to live it, yet as I look up after passing Avenicci's shop the first thing that borrows my attention is a somber-eyed Lydia. Her garb is not of her normal armor and the smile present is but a silent remnant of what past time brought sincere memories to her. There is no happiness left in the creases of her eyes, but a weary adventurer's solace emanates from her movements as she takes, what I assume is an unconscious step towards me before she catches herself. What pain has formed between us is of something brewed after I began to venture between home and the Throat of the World. Whenever I asked if she would join me, there was hesitation in her nod and after practically dragging her there I began going alone. What belonged to us was nothing more than a memory of a life that could have been but was destroyed by duty and fate. I cannot hide the fact that she is the one who will always be the protector of a possessionvery close to me, my heart. But a wall stands between us, one that is far more mighty than any that stood before me in the past.

Even with this barrier there is a presence around her that gives me unimaginable comfort, but I could not tell her that. She is a being of quiet stance and nothing I could do would make her step out of that zone with both of us remaining in clear conscience.

With nothing else to do, I take an unnoticeable deep breath and begin walking forward again.

"Is it done?" Lydia asks when I reach her.

"Yes." I say. Our eyes meet for a second to prove that we are still far from healed.


End file.
